🔗 Share this article Male Connections Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Stop Trying to Make Men Into Women? It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
It's healthy to talk. That's what men are often told, from sources ranging from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. They remain perplexed by the common male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father? For women, whose own friendships typically center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on apparently avoiding meaningful conversation—can appear oddly hollow and unfulfilling. No wonder, we think, that more than 25% of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits nobody. Rethinking the Merit of Silent Friendship However, according to researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, particularly for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships built around shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated. This muted model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states. Granted, this can sound oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's argument is evident: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who likewise appreciate less chatter. Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Could he be right? From a female perspective, one is obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional experience indicates that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be remarkably candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling entirely. Additionally, while modern men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, older men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "club allegiance," and many men will happily express frustration, yearning, discontent, or satisfaction endlessly. The most notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer didn't appear and then returned struggling, his friends observed and were concerned. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining routine. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words? This is not the preferred way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally the awareness that another person is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words? The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied styles of friendship hold equal worth, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.